


Blood in the Snow

by muse_of_mbaku



Series: Blood in the Snow [1]
Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Reader-Insert, Smut, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-25
Updated: 2018-05-25
Packaged: 2019-05-13 19:27:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 15,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14754866
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/muse_of_mbaku/pseuds/muse_of_mbaku
Summary: While on patrol with his men in the furthest reaches of his kingdom, M’Baku comes across an injured woman. He takes her in with the intent to offer a safe haven to recover, but soon discovers she’s stronger and more challenging than he ever imagined.





	1. Chapter 1

“Told you I like gentle giants so you softened up/And you've been jack'n, bean'n, stalk'n just to get to me love/I wanna be your golden goose/I wanna shave my legs for you/I wanna take all of my hair down and let you lay in it/Spread all of my limbs out and let you lay in it.” -Pretty Little Birds by SZA

 

“Blood.”

The word only gave pause to the band of Jabari warriors trekking through a remote tract of land at the far reaches of their kingdom. While the word did not stop their forward movement, the raised hand of their king, M’Baku, did just that. His words and actions mattered above all else. Those who followed him knew he was fiercely protective of those under his care and possessed the battle skills to make sure no harm came to his mountain kingdom. Just as he was fierce, M’Baku was also gregarious, witty, and had a soft streak only those closest to him were privy to. His raised hand meant something was amiss.

M’Baku’s eyes had noticed the faint trail of blood for the last mile. Every few inches a bright red splatter stood out among the starkness around them. They’d been patrolling the lands for the last months for small stretches at a time. He took his role as leader seriously and if it took him checking in on each small cluster of citizens scattered away from the city center, then he’d do just that.

Those small splatters of blood had given way to pools that came closer and closer to each other. Now, where he’d stopped the half dozen men following him, there was a smear as if something had been drug into the small thicket of trees and brush before them. He gave a signal that instantly made the men at his back ready weapons with deathly silence. Leaders were always at the forefront, so he stalked closer to a clearing in the tangle of trees. The smear of blood, still fresh, ended where that clearing began. Whatever was bleeding was still alive or had finally bled out. Whatever the case may be, M’Baku was prepared.

“If you’re alive I suggest you show yourself,” he stated evenly into the still air. There was no response. “I’m trying to be patient, but from all of the blood that led us here we know you aren’t in any position to fight.” For a moment, M’Baku considered perhaps the blood didn’t belong to the person he was addressing. Maybe it was from that person’s prey. Whatever the matter, he’d felled assassins, soldiers, and anyone else who’d dared threaten the peace of his kingdom. This was no different.

Years of battle had fine tuned his ears and he picked up the slightest rustle beyond the clearing. Signaling for his men to remain where they were, he circled the thicket hoping for another point of entry. He was in luck. From his new vantage point he caught the sight of a figure crouched next to a tree, a fresh pool of blood beside them. A large branch lay discarded next to the figure. Quickly seizing the blunt end and pulling it towards him, M’Baku made his presence known with a resounding crack of the wood against a nearby tree. The figure startled and placed one hand up in surrender.

“Show yourself!” M’Baku demanded, annoyed at the cowardice of the man before him. What kind of warrior in his kingdom would give up so easily? He’d make sure the man was properly educated on the Jabari way to avoid such embarrassment in the future. M’Baku’s plans were abruptly ended by the sting of a throwing knife careening through the air and into his shoulder. Caught off guard, he yanked the weapon from the thickness of his body and prepared to throw it back. Until everything stopped and he took in the sight of the woman crouched before him clutching a wound to her abdomen.

***

You were sure the man standing in front of you was a figment of your imagination. You’d been pulling your weakening body through the outreaches of the mountain terrain for hours, hoping to find a place of respite or perhaps someone with medical skill. Instead all you’d found was never-ending snow and a fear it would be your last sight on Earth. There was no way he could be real. He was too large, too imposing as he stood over you looking puzzled. A real man would have been more than paused by the razor-sharp blade you’d thrown with the last bit of your strength.

 

With a jolt you felt yourself pulled through a bramble of branches and thistles. The tear of them across your face opened up new wounds on your cheeks, and the now exposed wound you’d been nursing for miles. Unable to hold in the pain, you screamed as blackness crept into the edges of your vision. You’d come this far only to be killed here? Relief came in the feel of your body being pinned facedown in the snow. It numbed the pain if only for a fleeting moment. Sputtering as the icy ground pushed into your mouth, you turned your head to see a small group of men pointing a variety of weapons to each part of your body. A final man had his knee placed firmly in the center of your back, his hand twisted into the shock of curls that had spilled from under the hood of the fur cloak you wore. When a set of footsteps approached, he tightened his grip and lifted your head towards the man you now knew was very much real.

 

Even through the haze of blood loss and impeding blackness, you could make out the mass of his muscled body beneath a cloak similar to your own. Except he looked regal, like all of the outdoors belonged to him. And apparently it did, because each of the men briefly turned their attention from you to bow in varying forms.

 

“Your highness, what will you have me do with her,” the man grinding his knee into your spine asked. The instant you had a chance, you’d drive one of those throwing knives deeply into his body and make him pay for manhandling you as he was.

 

“What you’ll do is take your hands off of me and let me continue on my path!” you spat at him. As fierce as you wanted to sound, your voice had cracked, barely pushing through your parched lips and throat.

 

The man, who you now knew was some measure of royalty, eyed you with curiosity. He looked almost amused at your threat. This boiled your blood. “I’ll be sure to kill you once I’m done with the rest of them.” At this he did laugh. Throwing his head back he bellowed.

 

“I’d like to see you try, little one.”

 

He gestured for the men to sheath their weapons. It was clear he did not consider you a threat. The man with his knee to your back made no effort to move. Instead, he pulled cruelly on your hair, stretching your body in a way that made the gash on your side feel as it was gaping open. The shock of cold air in the wound dizzied you. The last thing you remember before the world closed in on itself was the regal giant’s growl and the relief of finally letting go.

***

 

M’Baku had never inflicted violence on any of his men outside of combat training, but before he knew what had possessed him he’d barreled his body into A’Dyo. The man’s frame had launched into the air and M’Baku found himself pinning him to the ground, his face scant inches away from his warrior’s shocked expression.

 

“That is not what we do!” he hissed, grabbing a fistful of wooden armor. He felt it splinter and crack. “Do you understand me? She was subdued. Hell, even if she wasn’t she was in no position to defend herself! We’ll take care of this when we return to the palace.”

 

M’Baku flexed his hand, dropping A’Dyo into a drift of snow and ice. His rage cooling, he turned to the unconscious woman face down in the snow. The ground beneath her was darkening crimson. With gentleness that belied the size of his hands, he gathered her enough to turn her onto her back. A quick motion brought a medical kit into his hands. Using the knowledge he’d gathered through years of battle, he assessed her wounds. The cuts and scrapes to her face were superficial. They’d heal on their own. What scared him in ways he didn’t understand was the large wound puncturing her right side. It was deep and he worried just how much blood she’d lost before they’d come across her.

 

Doing as best he could with the supplies at hand, he tightly wound bandages around the curve of her waist in an attempt to staunch the blood. As long as he could keep her alive long enough to get her back to the medical center at the palace, he didn’t care how primitive his efforts were. Satisfied that he’d stabilized her enough to move, he ordered her things gathered from the thicket. The men could easily add the few items she carried into their packs. He took the most important item, her.

 

Forgetting the reason he’d trekked to such a barren place, M’Baku set course for the palace, hoping they could make it there with enough time to spare.

 

“Keeping fighting, little one. We’ll be there soon.”

 

The journey back to the palace took a fraction of it’s usual time. Determination to get there before the last bit of life seeped out of the woman in his arms had driven him in ways he didn’t know were possible. Somewhere in his chest he felt fear, something he’d barely registered since he was a child. Kings had no time for fear. There was too much at stake. Somehow, this felt like that kind of situation. The inkling of dread that crept into his heart each time he’d looked down at her face confused him. Her skin, the golden color of a Wakandan sunset, had drained of color quickly and her breath came in labored gasps. He’d seen enough to know that there wasn’t much time.

 

He’d considered contacting his newest ally, T’Challa, to call in a favor. After giving his mother and sister respite during Killmonger’s coup and saving his life, T’Challa owed him. He could bring her to Shuri’s lab and have her healed. But time was too short and he’d do anything to make sure it didn’t run out.

***

 

The first time your eyes open you see the regal giant changing the bandage wrapped around the crux of his shoulder. He looks more annoyed than anything. You want to say something, but you can’t find your voice before the darkness takes over again.

 

The second time you come back to the world, the regal giant is sitting in a chair next to the massive bed you have been confined to for a length of time you do not know. He is reading something, his brow furrowed. His eyes lift, catch yours and you think you see relief wash over his face. You feel hot, like your body is being burned from the inside out. He senses this and holds a glass of water to your lips. Then there is the coolness of mountain breezes coming through the windows. You catch a brief glimpse of the landscape before sleep calls you again.

***

 

M’Baku is worried. Fear has left and for that he is glad. He’s worried because for the last week, the woman he’d carried from the wastelands into his home had drifted between life and death. Despite his best efforts, infection had set in and her body was ablaze with fever. Short of keeping a vigil at her side, there wasn’t much for him to do. After one too many wayward glances from his men, who were concerned and amused at his attentiveness to this stranger, he’d ordered his personal physician to do what he could to save her. Knowing that she was in good hands, albeit not his, he’d gone to his quarters to uncover who she was and how she’d ended up bleeding in that thicket.

 

She hadn’t carried much with her, just a few small knives, a handful of journals, and travel documents stuffed into a satchel. He figured the rest of her things were somewhere in a room, perhaps a house, she’d planned to return to. He couldn’t see her setting out on such a trek so unprepared. Or did she simply grab what she could while running for her life?

 

The doctor had determined the wound was the result of a large caliber weapon. She’d still been carrying the bullet within her body and it’d made a mess of the flesh and organs around it. Thank Hanuman that they’d been able to control the blood loss and close the wound. She’d likely have a scar, but she’d have her life. What they weren’t able to repair was the infection that swiftly set in once they made it back to kingdom center. M’Baku could only imagine what manner of organisms and filth that had found their ways into the wound while she wandered alone.

 

When her eyes had fluttered open the second time and he felt the world lift from his shoulders at the sight of her dark eyes, he knew he needed distance. While she lay motionless during the first night he’d found on more than one occasion his fingers grazing the softness of her skin. Then he’d find himself absently fingering the coils of hair that escaped the low bun at the nape of her neck, tucking them behind her ears to keep them off her fevered brow. He’d never showed tenderness in those ways. It unbalanced him. With Wakanda soon stepping into the world’s spotlight, infatuation with a scrappy nomad was the last thing he needed.

Still, after leaving her in the capable hands of the medical team, he’d taken those journals into his sanctuary to devour them. He’d find out what he needed to know, take the appropriate action, and cast her back where she came from. Where she went after that? It was not of his concern.


	2. Chapter 2

The sky is fast darkening when you stir. This time, your body feels warm and not the blaze it was the last time you remember anything. But you ache and when you gingerly press your side, the pain shoots through you at a remarkable pace. Then you notice he’s gone from your bedside and you feel a bit lonely and a whole lot of scared. From the wall of large windows adjacent to the bed, you can make out the peaks of mountains. Beyond them you can see a valley and, on the horizon, the Golden City twinkling in the dusk. You are so far from where you’d began. You were one of the few outsiders ever to set foot within this magnificent land, brought there because of your ability to capture and preserve Wakanda for the outside world.

 

After T’Challa’s speech at the UN, ensuring the story of his nation was accurately told was one of his top priorities. He wanted to control the narrative before anyone else had the chance to. That was your specialty. You’d worked your way through your PhD program and proudly used your anthropological knowledge to give voice to people who’d otherwise be seen as third world throwaways. Wakanda was far from that and everyone involved wanted its rich history to be presented to the world.

 

It had been a month since you’d taken an apartment in the heart of the Golden City, spending your days walking the streets to take in the vibrant sights and sounds. It was all so different from home and you felt connected to the kingdom and the people in ways you never did back in the States. Eventually, you’d learned your way around the cityscape and slowly made your way to the outlying areas, meeting and interviewing members of all of the tribes except one. The Jabari. All the way on their mountain, they were isolated from not only the city, but also the afrofuturistic daily life of those in the valley. Capturing their story would be the most challenging part of your time in the country.

 

You weren’t quite sure how long you’d been in the massive bed chamber, but it had only been a few days ago that you can remember renting a small cabin at the base of the mountain. You’d planned to make your way up bit by bit in order to capture the varied lives of those in the Jabari kingdom. They’d been a mystery to Wakandans and completely foreign to you. You wanted to be one of the first to bring them, and all of their fierceness, to the world at large. And it had gone well until you’d stumbled across things you shouldn’t have been privy to. It was then you had to flee, trying to make it down the mountain and into the city where you knew you’d fall under the protection of the king.

 

It’d been going as planned as you packed the contents of the cabin, prepping to make the first leg of your journey before night fell. And then there was the bursting sound of the door coming off its hinges and the soft pops of silenced bullets. It apparently wasn’t very hard to find the American in a sea of Wakandans. The bullet hit with a sting that felt nothing as you expected it to, but when you placed your hand to your side the slick feel of blood caked your fingers.

You may have been a certified nerd, but you were not a slouch either. Crashing the lamp beside you to the ground, the room plunged into darkness. You’d taken that time to sling the satchel containing your notes and a few essentials across your chest. Using the clatter of the men ransacking the front room as cover, you crouched as low as you could waiting for an opening to slip out unnoticed. When they paused to rifle through the jumble of flash drives on the table you’d used as a makeshift desk, you made your move and broke out into the woods surrounding the cabin.

 

You knew what they were searching for, the photos of the weapons cache you’d spied in a clearing halfway to the palace. You’d snapped as many photos as you could of the men and their movements, intent on telling T’Challa as soon as you arrived safely in the capital. Your mistake was the rush of breath that escaped you when you heard plans to overthrow the Jabari king. These men, clad in the warrior gear common of the tribe, were planning an assassination.

***

 

M’Baku had managed to stay away from the woman’s recovery room for most of the day. He’d been enthralled by her writing. Each of the journals she’d carried was overflowing with the history of the tribes of Wakanda. The fifth journal concerned his kingdom and was only partially filled. He’d been able to determine her path up the mountain based on her observations. And he finally knew her name, Y/N. An American anthropologist named, Y/N. She was on assignment from Philadelphia with a departure date in the coming weeks. He’d be untruthful with himself if he said he wasn’t intrigued by what he’d found. Her passport, travel documents, and personal journal gave him everything he needed to know. Sure, it was an invasion of privacy, but she was under his care and that gave him the right.

 

He’d learned about her passions, her fears, her desires, and goals. She was ambitious, there was no denying that. She’d traveled across the world alone to a country most knew nothing about and had written of Wakada as if she’d been there her entire life. The softening of his heart halted when he got to the final entry. She’d run into trouble as evidenced by the hasty scribbles on the final page. She’d only written Coup. Photos. Three forward. Two right. Roots.

 

He felt his body tense at the smudges of blood on the page. Who’d hurt her? He intended to find out. Whoever it was deserved no haven in the Jabari lands. His people deserved to be safe, to have a place of peace, but he refused to lie to himself by pretending that a bit of revenge for Y/N was in order as well.

 

Pushing the journals and other items back into the bloodied satchel, he broke his promise and propelled himself towards the woman that now had his full attention.

***

 

Putting your feet to the floor was the first step. Now if you could only stop your legs from trembling and find something to put on over the feather soft shift covering your body. Whoever had been caring for you had made sure you had nothing but the best.

 

“One foot in front of the other, Y/N. You can do this,” you whispered to yourself. You needed to get back to the Golden City as quickly as possible. You had no idea who the Jabari king was, but you were sure T’Challa would be able to get a message to him. “Okay good. Now, find your bag and go.”

A quick scan of the tables, desk, and hooks in the room turned up nothing. Everything was gone. All of your research and memories of Wakanda were probably somewhere in the woods where the band of men had captured you. From the looks of things, you certainly weren’t with them any longer. For that you were glad. Thankful for a pair of fur-lined slippers and a woolen cloak, you pulled them onto your body and took shaky steps towards the door. You felt weak, like you were floating between here and there, waking and dreaming.

 

You certainly hoped you were dreaming when as you swung the door open, the regal giant was standing on the other side. He looked down at you with puzzlement and concern on his face.

“Where are you going, little one?” His question came with a finger under your chin, lifting your eyes towards his. He searched your face. “What do you need? I’ll have it brought to you.”

 

His concern touched you and you were surprised by it. Your meeting in the woods was anything but tender. “I don’t need anything. I need to get back to the city.”

 

“That I cannot allow,” he said simply. “You are in no condition to travel. You’ve spent the last week barely among the living. Back to bed with you, Y/N.”

 

Your eyes widened. How did he know your name? The only words you’d spoken to him was your threat to end his life.

 

“How do you know my name?” There was a bit of fear lacing the edges of your question.

 

“I know a lot about you, love. Where you live, why you’re here, everything.” His eyes bore into yours. They were filled with amusement and challenge. He was trying to get you to react. He certainly was going to get exactly what he wanted.

 

“Then you’ll know I don’t take kindly to being held against my will. And you should also remember what I promised you,” you pushed through clenched teeth.

 

“That you’ll kill me?” His laughter boomed in the room. As irritating as it was, the sound of it wrapped itself around your body and you shivered. Your shaking stopped his chuckle.

 

“You, little one, are going back to bed. Now.” The word was final, but this mountain of a man had no idea who he was dealing with.

 

“I’m a big girl and I’m going to walk out of that door and finish what I started.”

 

You moved to brush by him, but the solid mass of his body moved not an inch. You pressed against his arm, feeling the corded muscles under his warm skin. If you were a lesser woman, you’d swoon. You weren’t and you had a mission.

 

“Move. Now.”

 

A quick flash of anger washed over his face before he plucked the cloak from your shoulders and pulled you into his arms. The slippers clattered to the ground. Draping your frame across both arms, he carried you not towards the bed, but instead the wall of windows. In the way he held you there was not a trace of anger. He seemed to take extra care not to jostle you, steering clear of your wounds.

 

“Do you see this?” He nodded towards the snowy landscape before you. “This is my domain and here you will listen to me. Do you understand?” His voice was low and you felt desire pool in your belly.

 

“Do you understand?” he asked again.

 

You responded by trying to wiggle out of his arms. His grip tightened enough for you to feel the solidness of his chest. You could feel his skin against yours. The armor from the woods was gone, but he was still as large as you remembered. Even without your injuries, you were sure it would be nearly impossible to escape his grasp. Instead of continuing a futile fight that was sapping what little energy you had, you set your chin and stared at him in anger.

 

“You didn’t answer my question. Do you understand?”

 

Again silence. The wash of anger appeared and dissipated on his face once more. That beautifully rugged face. In another life, another time, he would be just your type. Massive, bearded, challenging, and virile. But this was not the time.

 

“I see you are stubborn, little one.”

 

You didn’t want to like his pet name for you, but it was of no avail. It was endearing.

 

“I don’t take orders, whatever your name is.”

 

“M’Baku. Or you can call me your highness.”

 

The end of his sentence came with the capture of your lips in his, coaxing your mouth into joining after a slight hesitation. He suckled your lips and you felt flush. Lowering you to your feet, he palmed your face in both hands and bent his height towards you to capture your mouth again. You felt his moan rattle in his chest and vibrate into yours. He kissed you as if he was trying to devour you, mating his tongue with yours time and again until he pulled back with a groan that was a mixture of pleasure and frustration. Whatever he was feeling frustrated you as well. All you wanted was him to pull you into his arms again and assert the power that radiated off him in waves.

***

 

Why he’d went up in flames and kissed her was beyond M’Baku’s comprehension. He’d only picked her up to show her the stretch of kingdom outside the windows. There had been no reason she’d been out of bed so carrying her seemed the most logical option. Except it put her curved frame next to his and he realized just how well she fit there. Like she belonged there.

When he’d bandaged her in the thicket, he’d briefly admired how her waist had flared out into a pair of shapely hips and thighs he could see draped across his waist or locked behind his back or his shoulders or…

 

What was he doing? This woman was an outsider, someone who was soon to return to her land with her people. If she lived to make it there. That thought angered him. Whoever it was whose bullet had ripped into her flesh had limited time remaining in this plane of existence. He’d make sure of that. But at the moment, he could not ignore the weight of her in his arms as he lifted her again, moving from the windows. Her breathing was ragged and when he took her mouth again he felt her sigh.

 

The need to feel her skin next to his was far too urgent and before he realized it, her lush body was beneath his and he was aching to taste every bit of sugar he knew her body would contain. He knew he’d reached the point of no return when he felt himself lifting one of her shapely legs around his waist and lifting her body towards him with the other. He needed her closer. Closer than their clothing allowed. Somewhere after a countless number of heated kisses, their mouths began to meld together with a passion that scared him more than he cared to admit. M'Baku’s fingers pushed themselves beneath the shift hiding Y/N’s warmed body from his. He felt her gasp and he used the opportunity to pull her closer and nuzzle her neck.

 

“Little one,” he drawled near her ear. She answered him with a whimper when he lifted the shift over her head and flung it over his shoulder. His hand reached towards the band of the thin panties that remained covering the rest of the body he wanted to claim as his own. Y/N lifted her hips and he swept the material away from her legs. His breath caught as he trailed his lips across her belly.

 

“You are incredible.”

 

Y/N’s hooded eyes glanced up at him while she tugged his tunic over his head. “No, you are incredible,” she whispered before pulling him back down to her. He kissed her deeply once more before positioning her on top of him.

 

Pressing gently on the small of her back, he moved her lips back to his. It wasn’t until he felt her grind against him that he understood just how badly he ached to be inside her. “I want you, love.”

 

“I’m right here,” she mewed at him. A moment later his hands cupped her breasts before rubbing his thumbs across the nipples that peaked the moment the mountain air hit them.

 

The feel of Y/N’s fingernails rasping across his chest in slow circles sent lightening straight to his brain. Her fingers left pathways shooting to all points of his body. M’Baku felt himself harden and lengthen in response to her hand’s wanderings across his torso and he knew it was time to release her, lest he embarrass both of them. Giving her one more firm kiss, he pulled away from her, leaving her dazed. The lust shone brightly in her eyes and her lips were swollen from his kisses. She pulled him back to her body and that was all the permission he needed.

M’Baku guided himself into the woman he realized wanted to possess. She fit him like a glove. The grip of her core around him was almost enough to bring him to climax, but his will was stronger than what his body wanted. M’Baku stilled himself for a moment to allow her time to adjust. He didn't know how long it had been since she'd been with a man, but he could feel her tensing slightly. One smooth stroke was all it took for her body to accommodate fully to his. The sudden arch of her back provided him with just enough room to slide his arm underneath her and bind her to his muscled chest.

 

The two of them plunged and pulled against each other. Slowly. Tenderly. Mouths always a breath from each other. Breath mingling. The relentless carousel movements of their conjoined bodies lulled them both into a daze. Their motions became automatic, matching each others' requests and demanding more. M’Baku felt himself hurtling over the edge and clasped her tighter.

 

“Open your eyes, Y/N,” he pleaded with her in a voice clouded with passion. “Let me see you cum for me.” His demand was rough. It matched his increased strokes. He trapped her beneath him and pulled those glorious thighs over his shoulders, pushing deeper into her until he felt her go liquid in his arms, a scream tearing from her throat. The sound of his name falling like a whimper from her lips pushed his body until he spilled inside of her.


	3. Chapter 3

When his breathing evened, he cursed himself. His eyes caught the red gash on her torso, the bandage having been torn away in the midst of him taking her. Y/N seemed unaware, her arms still wrapped around his neck with her eyes closed. She looked perfect. Until she attempted to sit up and the reality of her injury came crashing back to Earth.

 

“Come with me,” M’Baku whispered as he gathered her into his arms and made his way to an intricately carved door across the room. “I hurt you.”

 

“No, you didn’t. I was hurt before you touched me. You and I had sex,” she said boldly before giggling at the angst on his face. “I’ll be okay, M’Baku. Really.”

 

Beyond the door, a wave of heat enveloped them. In the center of the room, a natural hot spring had carved itself out of the mountain over time. Over the course of his rule, M’Baku had made his own improvement, adding a skylight directly above the steamy waters. The sky was on full display, indigo and full of stars. Had the woman in his arms not been as breathtakingly beautiful, M’Baku would have been impressed by nature’s show.

 

He made short work of the few hand carved steps which lead into and below the water that smelled like fresh rain. M’Baku slipped his nude body into the huge chasm, clasping Y/N to his chest. Satisfied they’d both adjusted to the change in temperature, he settled her lovely body into his lap. He felt himself stir and he swung his gaze to Y/N’s amused countenance. He stirred even more as she presented herself to him and he swept her breasts once again into his mouth. Who was he to argue with what she wanted? Y/N’s hand clamped onto the back of his head, pressing him closer to give her the satisfaction she sought.

 

Her incessant rotation against his erogenous zone in response to his tongue swirling around her areolas caused him to growl in the back of his throat. Using his hands to span her waist, M’Baku guided her hips in a pattern designed to satisfy them both. The water allowed him to move her supple essence effortlessly across the heaviness between his thighs. M’Baku ached to push himself into her to the hilt and move her body in every way imaginable, to make her cry out from sheer bliss, and explode over and over again until she was exhausted, but he wanted her to have her way so he placated himself with his push and pull of her heated center across the throbbing length controlling his actions.

 

He was on the verge of begging to enter when she lifted herself from the water momentarily to sheath him inside her. Her moan of pure joy was more than M’Baku could handle and he let out a groan of his own. He locked his arms beneath hers; using his large hands to press her breasts into his face and sculpt her frame against his. Using the momentum of the water as a guide, they rocked back and forth on waves both real and imagined. Feeling the need to be closer, deeper, more intimate, M’Baku locked his well-muscled arms around Y/N’s hourglass shape and pushed down with her body as he pushed up with his. Releasing one of his hands as he continued his piston-like movements, he gathered a handful of curls and pulled her head gently back, exposing the damp pillar of her neck. A quick tongue at the pulse was enough for her to call out his name. M’Baku felt himself teetering on the verge of climax. Instead, he slowed his pace, making the effort to prolong the moment for Y/N. He opened eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed to look at her. Her eyes were held tightly shut, her bottom lip pulled in by her teeth and her brow furrowed in desire.

 

The tension caused by his hand in her hair made Y/N rock harder, rotate her hips faster. M’Baku stifled his voice, opting to listen to the sounds coming from the woman blissfully riding in his lap. His body grew harder with every moan that exited her now parted lips. He listened to her pants and drove himself closer to the edge before he had the presence of mind to draw himself back once again.

 

Y/N moved her body back until her head rested against the edge of the spring, forcing M’Baku to relinquish his hold on her waist and hair and hold onto her hips as he thrust time and time again into her, pulling her toward him to pleasure them both. The feel of her contracting and convulsing around him sent M’Baku over the edge. With a few more determined thrusts and an uncontrolled groan from the depths of his soul, he pulled Y/N’s body back to his and molded her to him as he rode out the last waves of passion coursing through his body.

 

They waited for minutes for their heartbeats to return to a normal pace before M’Baku secured a drowsy Y/N’s arms around his neck and lifted them both from the water.

 

“I’d intended to make sure your body had time to heal.”

 

“Clearly, I had other ideas. I told you, I’m fine. Or at least I will be,” she confessed as she traced the outline of his lips. “I’m a big girl, remember?”

 

M’Baku was impressed. He was more than used to the hearty women in the Jabari tribe, but Y/N went beyond that. There was fire in her that he knew she would not temper just to please him or anyone else. He’d want nothing less. She’d survived being a visitor in a foreign land, used her wits to made sure she’d survived what seemed to be a very organized attempt on her life, and she’d challenged him without a second thought. This woman, American or not, was a rarity. He couldn’t help to feel a pang of regret knowing soon enough she’d be out of his arms and on her way back to the safety of the Golden City and then onward to her home in Philadelphia.

 

Holding her now sleeping form close to his skin; he gathered a few large towels and made his way back to his chamber. A fire burned brightly, casting shadows on the stone walls. Smiling at the dozing woman in his arms, he felt happier, more content, than he could ever remember being.

 

With his free hand, M’Baku spread the towels atop a pile of furs next to the hearth and lay Y/N on her stomach. She barely stirred as he retreated to retrieve a vessel of oil. He returned a few moments later to find her in the same position. Straddling her with his nude form, M’Baku placed a measure of the fragrant oil in his palm and warmed it with his body heat. He used his massive hands to massage the rich balm into her skin while trying to reconcile what he was doing and why. 

 

He felt an unexpected pride in the woman sleeping contentedly beneath his powerful legs. He planted kisses down the curve of her spine and she stirred slightly turning her head to the side.

 

“Did I fall asleep on you?” she asked sheepishly as M’Baku prevented her from turning over. He continued to lavish her skin with the scented oil and kiss her alternately.

 

“You did, but we just finished up some pretty hard work, so you were entitled to it.” he teased her. “I want you to relax. Let me take care of you.”

 

He watched the hesitation in her eyes before they softened with her relent. Y/N seemed to be satisfied with her passive role and closed her eyes to drift back into slumber. M’Baku took the silence of the room as his own and massaged every inch of her body. When he was finished, he wrapped her in his arms beneath the heavy furs covering his bed and slept. He would ask her how he could protect her in the morning.

 

***

 

A solid knock brought you from your sleep. You could only imagine it was a servant or one of M’Baku’s men inquiring about his absence from his normal duties. Tossing back the heavy furs with one hand, you started from the bed. A well-muscled arm anchored you back to the solid chest of the giant sleeping next to you.

 

“Where are you going?” he inquired in a voice deepened by the tail end of sleep leaving his body.

 

“Someone’s at the door. I’ll tell them to come back later,” you informed him while failing to remove his arm from around your waist.

 

M’Baku, faster than you could anticipate, pulled your body beneath his and kissed you deeply before striding to the door, poking his head out, and speaking briefly. By the tone of his voice, you were sure he instructed the person to not come back unless summoned.

 

Last night, after he’d taken you again, you lay across his lap with your head on his chest while he told you of Jabari history until you drifted off to sleep, spent and sated. When you’d briefly awaken, you were culled against M’Baku’s body. You’d debated easing from his grasp, but his even breathing soothed you and you admitted to yourself that it had been far too long since you’d shared a bed with anyone. So, you’d had given yourself an endless moment to gaze at his face before drifting back into a dream.

 

The trail of M’Baku’s finger down your spine brought you out of your thoughts and you shifted to face him. “Good morning,” you said, finding your voice.

 

“Good morning, little one. Sleep well?”

 

“I did. Thankfully you aren’t a snorer,” you joked.

 

You watched concern enter his face. “I apologize again for hurting you. I got carried away.”

 

You palmed a cheek before replying. “I accept your apology. Even if it doesn’t need to be given. I’ve thoroughly enjoyed you.”

 

“This sounds like the beginning of goodbye.” His voice seemed flooded with worry even if he was steeling his face to show no emotion. Just like a Jabari warrior, you thought.

 

“For now, perhaps. It’s more important than you know. As dramatic as it may sound, it’s a matter of life and death.”

 

The calm of his voice frightened you. “Whose death? Certainly not yours. I won’t allow it.”

 

Telling him everything seemed the only way to explain why you had to leave the warmth of both his bed and his presence. You weren’t sure why, but making sure he understood your reasons was just as important as relaying the information about the coup to anyone who’d listen. Now that you’d fallen into the arms and under the protection of a Jabari consort, there was no need to rush down the mountain to T’Challa and his army.

 

“The day I was ambushed, I came across a group of men stockpiling Vibranium weapons about halfway up the mountain. I took as many pictures as I could and listened to them plan. Had I not been stupid enough to gasp, they’d never have known I was there.”

 

You felt him bristle and placed a hand to his arm. “I was sure they only caught a glance of me. I was clearly mistaken. I thought I had a head start and I’d be able to make it back to the capital before they were the wiser. I didn’t make it,” you intoned, the tail end of your words trailing to a whisper. You looked at the neatly stitched wound before catching M’Baku’s eyes again.

 

“I was at least able to hide the photos before they noticed I’d made it out of the cabin. After that, I just ran until I couldn’t anymore. That’s where you found me. I don’t remember how long I was out there. I just hid and ran until my body gave out.” Your words ended with a shudder.

 

The fire behind M’Baku’s eyes didn’t scare you. You knew it was strictly reserved for the men who’d hurt you. You didn’t know why, but that knowledge made you feel more secure than you had in the Golden City.

 

“What exactly were they planning?”

 

“To overthrow the Jabari king,” you stated plainly never expecting the fury that erupted or that it would directed towards you.


	4. Chapter 4

Whatever haze was left from the intimacy between him and Y/N dissipated in an instant. It was replaced by rage, red and angry as sunset. How incredibly careless and foolish had he been? Blinded by a pretty face and a body that seemed to fit with his like lock and key!

 

M’Baku felt shame crash onto his shoulders. He was a king for Hanuman’s sake and here he was, vulnerable and exposed, in front of a woman who’d snaked her way into his kingdom and his bed. He’d never stopped to question how she’d come to be so deep into Jabari land without alerting any of the border patrols. How convenient she’d been so injured she needed rescue, but was able to throw that knife at his frame with such startling accuracy. How questionable had it been that she’d sat on this knowledge from the time she’d awaken to this very moment? There was no mistaking she was in the Jabari kingdom. Y/N could have informed him of what she’d observed days ago, but she’d done exactly what she was supposed to. Get close to him and bring the plan to fruition.

 

M’Baku jerked his arm away from her hand, fury burning through any sense of reason. He remembered what he was, a warrior skilled and feared in his kingdom and beyond. He pushed to the side the urge to quiet the fear in her eyes or reverse the flinch of her body as he reached down to hoist her to eye level.

 

“I am the king of the Jabari!” he roared into her face, ignoring the tears welling up and the quiver in her lips. Since he’d come across her in the woods this was the first time she seemed terrified or unsure. Such a fool he’d been!

 

“There will be no coup! There will be no ruler other than me!” he growled at her, binding her in his arms and heading towards a bank of cells in the lower levels of the palace. “Let your comrades find you here! I dare them.”

 

He dropped her to the cool slate floor and closed the heavy door with nary a glance over his shoulder. It wasn’t until he was at the end of the hallway that he was able to draw a full breath. It echoed in the empty space. Y/N was the only one being held there. The block of bare rooms was rarely used because no one had ever tried anything so insane. M’Baku wasn’t confident of his next move. He should show her no mercy and end her miserable life right then and there, but a good king is blessed with discernment and he knew no decision should be made until his temper had cooled. He’d summon someone to watch over her until he made his final choice on what should happen to the American woman who’d been bold enough to challenge and placate him without breaking a sweat.

 

A few hours later, M’Baku sat in his throne room, his menacing façade back in place. A’Dyo was at his side. He’d apologized to the man for not accepting his skepticism of the woman now locked away in the core of the mountain. He’d also made his second in command aware of what had transpired between him and Y/N, leaving out the details of what had taken place in his bed and the hot spring and then again in his bed. Those memories, false as they may be, were for him only. He’d be lying to himself if he believed he’d easily forget the sound of her pleasure as he hovered his bulk above her or the sight of her sleeping next to his heart.

 

Had life in his kingdom been so devoid of love, of companionship, that he’d latched onto the first woman who’d sparked more than simple lust? Believing that was something M’Baku could hold onto. At least then, it was his body and his heart that had betrayed him and not his mind. The former could be controlled, the latter is what he used to survive.

 

All that was left was for him to interrogate her. He’d pull the information he needed from her in whatever manner necessary and carry out his final judgement. He felt no pleasure in any of it. Nevertheless, it was what needed to be done. Moving swiftly down the stairs into the darkening chasm of cells, M’Baku and A’Dyo shared a knowing look and nodded as the steel door swung open.

 

***

 

You’d barely moved since M’Baku had gripped you in rage and dropped you carelessly onto the floor. The room was small, barely lit by starlight filtering in from a window too high to reach. There’d be no sky or sun to pass the time. Outside of a small pallet of furs that you assumed served as a bed, there was only a fireplace carved into the wall opposite the makeshift sleeping area. What could barely be considered a fire burned in it behind an iron gate that was locked with a padlock larger than your hand.

 

 

The large tunic you wore, the one M’Baku had pulled onto your sleepy body only hours before, was no match for the cold that seeped from the walls and the floor. Pulling your body into a ball beneath the furs, you hoped that you’d come to understand just what had happened. In the short time you’d experienced him, M’Baku had never seemed so off kilter. It was like a switch had been flipped and whatever that had turned on inside him despised you. You would not cry. You would not mourn something you did not know how to categorize. You would figure a way out of this and get back to the Golden City. Then you’d board a plane and forget that Wakanda, that he, ever existed. Life would go back to normal.

 

You didn’t know what normal was anymore. You’d grown accustomed to the lazy heat of the capital city, the sounds of Xhosa and English melding together like music. And you’d found that you didn’t quite mind the cold as long as there was the arm of a regal giant slung across your waist in the night. This thought, and the knowledge that it would never happen again, pushed a tear from your eye and you batted it away in anger.

 

“No tears, Y/N. It..he…isn’t worth it,” you sniffled as you steeled yourself at the sound of keys in the lock.

 

Never one to cower, you met M’Baku’s eyes head-on, daring him to blink, but hoping they’d soften. They didn’t and he held your stare long enough for you to know he was looking through you and not at you.

 

“I want the answer to three questions,” he said evenly.

 

The man at his side gripped a short dagger that made you shiver. Surely M’Baku wouldn’t harm you. Not after… You stopped yourself from thinking that you’d been anything other than a good romp in the furs to him. He didn’t, and you wouldn’t, believe it was more than that. The gentle giant you knew now stood before you an angry king.

 

“One. Who are you?” His expression didn’t change as you rose to your feet to stand before him.

 

“You know me. I’m Y/N. You know I’m from Philadelphia. That King T’Challa brought me here to anthologize the stories of Wakanda. What happened, M’Baku?” Your voice broke at the question.

 

The man next to him clucked in disapproval. “You will refer to him as your highness. Commoners, especially an uncultured American, has no right to call the king’s name.”

 

You recoiled at the harshness of his words and looked at M’Baku to defend you. Again, his expression remained the same.

 

“Two. Who are the others in on your plan?”

 

“There isn’t any plan! I don’t know what you are thinking I’ve done, but I’ve been honest with you. Please!”

 

Again, he looked through you. “Three. What does Coup. Photos. Three forward. Two right. Roots mean?

 

His final question gave you a glimmer of hope. If he was able to see the photos of the meeting you’d crashed, he’d know you had no intentions of harming him. You could only pray he wasn’t so blinded by anger that he’d dismiss them as he had your words, your eyes.

 

“It’s where I hid the photos of what I saw. Three trees straight ahead from the cabin door. Two trees to the right of those. In the roots of the second tree is where I stashed them. You’ll see…”

“Silence!” the dagger wielding man shouted in your direction before turning to M’Baku. “What will you have me do with her your highness?”

 

Just as with M’Baku, something inside of you triggered. The man next to him was the faceless grunt who’d pinned you in the snow, contorted your body until you’d passed out. That voice finally connected with his face. He was one of them! You could only hope the shock coursing through your body wasn’t awash on your countenance. The raising of his eyebrow and wink in your direction let you know it was.

 

“Would you like me to go retrieve the photos, sir?”

 

“No. Stay here with her. I’ll take a small band of men with me. We’ll discuss what to do with her once I return.” M’Baku threw one last glance your way before striding out of the door and leaving you with a man now smirking with bloodlust.

 

****

 

She’d looked so small and terrified swimming in his tunic. He’d watched her flex and unflex her bare feet against the floor and caught the shivers she tried to hide. The room was freezing, not yet warmed by the fire that needed to be stoked. Had he been a weaker man, or a man being honest with himself, he would have swept her back up the stairs and warmed her next to his hearth. He was neither. Instead, he’d listened to her answer his questions, fully convinced each word that fell from her full lips was a lie. Those treacherous, soft, ever sweet lips.

 

M’Baku shook the images and tastes from his mind and urged his horse to pick up speed. The men at his back did the same. At this pace, they’d be to the cabin and back within a few hours. It was then that he’d have to decide the fate of the woman his body craved in ways he never experienced. Jabari law called for her to be killed. Hesitation came from two fronts.

 

She had people. He knew the importance of clan and knowing her body would never make it past the borders of Wakanda was a dishonor to them. Her crimes had no bearing on what they were owed. Tradition was the foundation of everything he believed. The dead deserved proper burial no matter the manner or reasoning for their deaths. Killing her would only mean a burial way from her homeland, away from her ancestors. That fate was not something he could abide.

 

And what of the American government? Surely, they would come looking for one of their citizens who’d vanished from an African nation. What kind of diplomatic shame would he bring upon Wakanda because he couldn’t control his loins and see through a woman sent to kill him?

 

With the cabin on the horizon, M’Baku dismounted his horse in motion and made a direct line to the path Y/N’s journal scribbles had laid out for him. Three forward. Two right. Roots. His hands clasped onto a small tube, capped with a watertight lid. The tremble in his hands was unexpected and he was glad the mass of his cloak stopped his approaching men from seeing it. What unfurled into his hands blossomed into a string of expletives.

 

The betrayal of A’Dyo was something he could have never predicted. This man, one who had been at his side for countless years, had planned to take his throne by force. M’Baku would take pleasure in crushing that ambition and any other the traitor had. Shouting a quick command, he saddled his horse and tore a path towards his home. Y/N was there and he was fully sure that A’Dyo was well aware of what he now knew.


	5. Chapter 5

You’d always been quick on your feet, able to think your way out of tough situations. This one, however, seemed almost insurmountable. A’Dyo stood with his impressive frame in the doorway of the cell. He was not nearly as large as M’Baku, but he was still Jabari. Their smallest warriors were massive compared to the average man. From the look on his face, you knew he was waiting for you to make a move.

 

Be smart you thought to yourself, scouring the room in your mind. What was there to use? A few furs and a fireplace flush with the wall was it. You could claw your way out, but you were sure the fight would last only a few moments. You were barefoot, covered in a shirt that was three sizes too big.

 

Think Y/N!

 

If you could just make it out of the door. You could mount the stairs quickly and make it to the main portion of the palace. There someone would surely help you. Or at least hold you prisoner until M’Baku returned. Anything was better than being trapped in a stone box with the man who’d murder you and the king in a heartbeat.

 

When he took one confident step forward you shuddered, a hand flying to the back of your neck and the other palming your belly. And then you felt it. The sharp end of the pin holding your hair at the nape of your neck. It was small, but it was better than fighting a trained killer in full armor with your bare hands. Despite the heavy wooden plates across his chest and abdomen, there were still soft spots of flesh to be gouged. If you were close enough that was. You were well aware those places were vulnerable because to be that close to a Jabari fighter was close enough to be bested in hand to hand combat or, even worse, to be crushed between his chest and his thick arms. You’d take that chance.

 

Another step forward and the two of you filled the center of the space, the fireplace to your right.

 

“So, Y/N, it seems our king has taken a liking to you. Another bed wench, a conquest if you will.” He chuckled darkly. “I mean did you really expect anything more? Wakandan royalty and a glorified American student.”

 

He reached his arm towards you and you crouched low enough to make him follow suit. When he did, you could see the mania in his eyes. The disconnect frightened you. Anger you could deal with, mania you could not.

 

“Do you know what it’s like to follow a king who stands more on tradition than he does on progress? To see the world around you expand while yours revolves around the same thing day in and day out?”

 

“I..”

 

“What the Jabari need, what I need, is to join the rest of Wakanda in the future. The world is opening up and there’s nothing M’Baku can do to stop it,” he finished with a pleased look on his face.

 

When he’d reached a full crouch in front of you, cocking his head to the side to study you curiously, you pushed as hard as you could. He toppled into the iron grate of the fireplace, the sear of his hand pulsing through the air. Not allowing more than his pained yelp to echo, you slashed the hair pin across his face, hoping you’d blinded him.

 

You were well aware of how precious little time you had and bolted from the room. The sound of your bare feet against the slate sounded dull. You pushed forward towards the stairs at the end of the hallway.

 

Two steps. Four steps. Six steps. And then you felt the solid crack of your chin on the next stair and the blood rushed into your mouth and out over your teeth. A hand gripped your ankle, pulling you backwards towards the cell and the death you knew surely awaited. Turning over, you kicked at any piece of flesh you could find, finally connecting with the gash that had barely missed his left eye. Again, you were granted a temporary reprieve and you took the final two stairs before pushing the heavy door and sprinting towards M’Baku’s lair sure there would be a bustle of activity.

 

Except everything was silent. No guards, no handmaidens, no one.

 

Thankful for a small bit of luck, you found the door to M’Baku’s inner sanctum unlocked. Before the door clicked shut you heard A’Dyo calling your name. Sweeping your clothing and one of M’Baku’s cloaks into your arms you made a direct line for the hot springs room. The echo of A’Dyo’s footsteps stopped just outside of the main door.

 

In the hot springs, you quickly slid the clothing under a stone bench and waded into the water, tucking your body under the lip of the pool closest to the door. You willed any ripples to settle before he made his way into the room. When the door clicked, you held your breath, afraid the rise and fall of your chest would disturb the surface of the water and you’d be discovered. Time seemed to drag, but before long you heard the echo of his footsteps retreating and the singsong calling of your name as he exited the chamber.

 

When you were certain he was gone, you stripped the soaking tunic from your body, pulled your clothes and M’Baku’s cloak onto your shivering frame, and ran out into the snow. You’d take you chances hiding again, hopeful you’d be able evade A’Dyo until M’Baku arrived.

 

***

At the sight of the palace looming ahead, M’Baku sighed in relief. He was almost home. Almost close enough to tell Y/N how sorry he was for dragging her into a cold cell to ponder her fate. How sorry he was that his fear of being cared for, and the insecurities he hid from the world, made him believe she only wished him harm. He pressed his thighs tightly into his horse, pushing his body forward as the animal took off at breakneck speed. He’d grown up racing horses in these very mountains so navigating through the drifts of ice and snow was something he did without thinking.

 

Her photos, more than he could count at the moment, proved what she’d said about the plot to overthrow him. Now, he also knew she’d given him her body, and he hoped her heart, of her own free will. Those memories he’d squired away were made all the more vivid with that realization. And what had he done with the gifts she’d given him? Taken them, and her body, time and again before casting her aside in the name of honor, tradition, and fear. He was ashamed of himself.

 

 

Trails of smoke on the horizon wasn’t something M’Baku expected as he and his cadre of warriors approached the bridge spanning the turbulent waters of the river below. They slowed their horses just short of the orange lick of flames. M’Baku and his men watched the bridge, constructed of rope and sacred Jabari wood, burn. It was the quickest point of entry to the palace, back to Y/N. With the flames too entrenched into the structure of the bridge to consider extinguishing it, M’Baku and his tactical advisor began to plot another route. It would take longer, across rougher terrain, but they’d get there just the same.

 

Just as he was about to mount his horse, movement across the canyon caught his eye. It was Y/N, clad in one of his cloaks, attempting to hide at the edge of the brush line. Coming across the snow just at her heels was A’Dyo. The man seemed almost buoyant and every few seconds, M’Baku watched her flinch. Grabbing a pair of binoculars from his advisor, he zoomed in on her face and was stilled. There was blood. On her face, her clothing, in the snow next to her. Déjà vu racked him. The last time he’d seen her blood dotted among the drifts, she’d nearly passed on to the ancestors. He’d saved her then and he’d save her now.

 

As he lowered the binoculars a flash of movement from A’Dyo had them back against his eyes. Across the chasm, he watched A’Dyo cull his hand around Y/N’s throat. The glint of a dagger shone at his side. Time slowed and M’Baku chose his path. There was still time to get across the bridge before the rope burned through and he started across without a second thought. He made it only a few feet before a rush of bodies dragged him backwards to safety. He roared, swinging wildly in an attempt to make it across the rapidly disintegrating structure.

 

“Your highness! We cannot allow this,” one of his denizens shouted. “You are the king and no harm must come to you.” 

 

M’Baku struggled, unable to break free of six men despite his prowess. He felt helpless, powerless, for the first time in his life. Watching the rope give way on the bridge, he felt the earth rattle as everything crashed into the swirling water below. He didn’t feel the cold seeping into his knees or hear the voices of his men. He could only watch as A’Dyo drug Y/N across the snow and out of his line of sight.

 

***

“Oh, I see why he likes you now. Fiesty!” A’Dyo smirked as he dragged your kicking frame away from your hiding spot. When you’d arrived at the bridge and found it engulfed in flames, your heart sunk. That was your way out and now it was burning against the night sky.

 

From your vantage point, being dragged by the cloak’s collar, you could see the blood caked on A’Dyo’s face. If this was where you’d die, then at least he’d have something to remember you by. But you weren’t ready to die just yet.

 

Unlatching the royal crest that served as a fastener for the mass of black fur surrounding you, your body slid off the cloak and you took off running again. The moment A’Dyo recognized the weight of what he was dragging had changed hit your ears as you rounded a bank of trees, the outline of the stables shining ahead of you.

 

Again, there was no one. The neighs and grunts of animals carried in the air, the smell of their bodies causing you to retch. You were tired. Exhausted of running, fighting, feeling anything. None of this was what you’d signed up for, caught in the middle of tribal conflict that you’d reap no benefits from no matter who won. Tears took over and you sobbed deeply covered by bales of hay stacked within the stables. All of it, M’Baku, the hatred in his eyes, the wound now scarred on your belly, the blood trickling in your mouth, the madness of the man at your heels broke inside of you. It spilled out between your fingers, spasms racking your body on repeat. You wished that none of this was real, that you’d died out in those woods. That thought, and the pain it would cause those who loved you, brought reality crashing down around you. You, Y/N L/N, wasn’t raised to kowtow to anyone. Jabari or not. Wakanda or not. M’Baku or not. You were going home, whole or shattered.


	6. Chapter 6

Never one to curse the beauty of his land, M’Baku was doing just that. There was much to be admired in the soft drifting of the snow onto the rugged surfaces. Things seemed to round out, hiding the roughness beneath. Kind of like him, he chuckled in a moment of levity he quickly felt ashamed of.

 

The route he and his men traversed had slowed them to a near crawl while they carefully led their horses around boulders and wide chasms in the land. On any other day, he’d stop and gaze out across the vista. He’d rarely taken the beauty of the Jabari lands for granted. For centuries, his family and the citizen clans had worked the earth respectfully and in turn it had sustained them for generations. They knew the importance of making sure you cared for the things that were important to you and how in turn you’d reap bounties beyond your wildest dreams.

 

M’Baku knew in a moment they’d crest a slope that peered over the palace. With luck and Haunuman on his side, he’d be able to quickly find Y/N and secure her safety. Then, and only then, would he take slow pleasure in dismembering the very existence of A’Dyo. More than for his kingdom, this was for the honor and respect of the woman he was certain he’d come to love. Repairing the damage he’d done would be his next task.

 

Arriving at the stables, M’Baku and his men dismounted, walking their steeds to a water trough on the other side of the cavernous structure. There he came across an image that would be burned into his mind for the rest of his natural days.

 

A’Dyo was stalking across the grazing lands in dogged pursuit of Y/N. She’d shed his cloak and the indigo of her long-sleeved shirt clung to her body. In her hand was grasped a short-handled scythe. M’Baku spied the rivers of blood trailing from A’Dyo’s forearm and knew she’d come out swinging. Pride and fear sat conjoined on his heart.

 

Neither seemed to notice him and he took off into the woods behind them, pushing the branches and vegetation away from his face like flies. When the wooded path burst into an open field, the whole of the Jabari tribe stopped. The Harvest Festival was one of the highlights of the year and they’d come crashing directly into the center of it. M’Baku had forgotten about his duties as both king and citizen when he’d angrily imprisoned Y/N and headed out into world to prove her treason.

 

A’Dyo faltered for a fraction of time before his long fingers snaked around Y/N’s free curls, dragging her into his arms.

 

“A’Dyo!” M’Baku’s voice echoed out across the festival space. Music stopped. Chatter died down. Outside of his booming voice, only the crackle of the fires ringing the area broke the quietness of the air. M’Baku shouted his name again and the man turned, using Y/N’s body as a shield.

 

The fear and exhaustion in her eyes was something M’Baku never wanted to see again. She looked battered, her spirit flickering towards breaking. This sight, and the prospect of what it would take to repair it, renewed his rage. The distance between he and A’Dyo closed rapidly before the man pulled the dagger from his side and pressed it into the soft flesh at the column of her neck.

 

“Of course you’d make it in time. The conquering king always saves the day, right?” The sarcasm dripping from his former comrade’s voice sickened him. How had he missed such discontent, such resentment, over the years?

 

“Whatever your quarrel is, it is with me. Let her go,” M’Baku willed his voice to be that of royalty and not that of a man willing to murder another of his clan where he stood.

 

The crass laugh that spilled from A’Dyo’s sneer let him know decorum and protocol were no longer on the table. M’Baku could handle that. He may be a king, but he was also a warrior. He glared at the man now nothing more than another obstacle to conquer and removed his armor. Stripped down to his bare chest and hands, his sent a murderous grunt across the silence.

 

“As you’ll have it then. You want the throne? Come take it.”

 

He saw Y/N tossed aside. She was quickly pulled to the safety of a cluster of elder women who were then flanked by his personal guards. For the time being, no harm would come to her. While he’d watched her, A’Dyo had removed his armor and crashed headlong into his body at full speed.

 

No honor? No problem.

 

Wrapping his biceps around the other man’s torso, M’Baku pulled him to the ground with him, both of them crashing in a dust of earth rising. He felt the air expel from his body, but caught it quickly as he flipped his former friend onto his back, pummeling two quick jabs into his face. A well-placed body shot sent M’Baku back on his haunches before he sprung back to his feet. He jabbed again, connecting with A’Dyo’s face and sending blood splattering back onto his arm.

 

This fight was not ritual. It was a brawl. A brawl that saw A’Dyo catch him across the jaw with a punch that momentarily blackened his vision. And another that he was sure cracked a rib. Still another that brought him to his knees. And finally, the crush of the traitor’s arm locked around his throat. Funny what crosses your mind as the air leaves and your survival instinct kicks in.

 

M’Baku wanted to apologize to Y/N for not trusting her. He wanted to apologize to his people for allowing a wolf among them. He wanted to apologize to Wakanda for the madman who would sit on his throne. But more than anything, M’Baku wanted to live.

 

He contorted his body until he was able to grapple A’Dyo into a bear hug, squeezing the life from him. He felt no happiness in watching the spark flicker in the man’s eyes. Perhaps things could be different. Maybe A’Dyo could be imprisoned, the same fate he’d almost inflicted on Y/N. It wasn’t until he felt A’Dyo’s body go limp he realized that would have never been an option. Dropping him, M’Baku made a direct line for Y/N. She was trembling as she looked up at him. His large palm settled against her bruised cheek. He felt himself calm at the very feel of her skin against his.

 

“Little one, I am ashamed. When you…”

 

M’Baku couldn’t finish his words. Around him, he heard screams and when he looked into Y/N’s eyes he saw terror like never before.

 

***

 

It had been hours since you had been able to relax. That morning, you’d awaken in the arms of a man who pleased you in ways your heart and body were not used to. Now, as night was starting to pull away to dawn, you were bloodied, exhausted, and all but ready curl into M’Baku’s lap. You’d deal with his betrayal after he made you feel secure, until your body uncoiled and you were no longer a fighter, just the curious woman who’d come to Wakanda.

 

The hand that caressed your cheek abruptly fell and the air around you erupted into screams. Behind M’Baku, A’Dyo had risen, a dagger fisted in his shaky hand. Before the crowd could warn or place their bodies between him and the king, A’Dyo’s blade had sliced its way into M’Baku’s side. The world slowed and you watched the regal giant crash to earth, a hand clutching the gush of blood pumping from between his fingers. You forgot who you were.

 

When you came back to yourself, the scythe was back in your hand and A’Dyo lay at your feet, slashed and finally out of life. You heard the weapon clatter to the ground, your breath coming in gasps before you started to dry heave and fell to your knees. The sobs came then when you saw the blood on your hands. Then the darkness found you as it always had before.

 

Surely this is a dream you thought when your eyes opened and you found yourself again heaped atop the furs in the poorly heated cell. There was no way M’Baku had sentenced you to this again. Unless…You wanted to stop your mind from formulating the thought your king, your lover, was dead. He’d fallen so limp and when you’d stepped back into your body, his was gone.

 

How long had it been since festival night? Judging by the ache in your chin, it hadn’t been long. With the dried blood caking your shirt and hands, you knew no one had cared to give you any measure of comfort. Drawing your knees to your chest, you waited, unsure of what lay beyond the locked door.

 

Days stretched out before you only broken by the slide of a meal tray from the outside of the heavily guarded hallway. No one spoke and you overheard nothing of M’Baku’s fate. The unknown started to chip away at you until the clank of the door opened and brought you face to face with King T’Challa. His was the first soft gaze you’d seen since M’Baku caressed you. Underneath that softness was steel. Somehow you knew it wasn’t directed at you.

 

“Y/N, I’m here to take you back to the city.” He extended a hand towards you and you refused it, hoisting yourself to your feet.

 

“Blood, your highness,” you whispered before following him out of the cell.


	7. Chapter 7

If ever a man roared, it was M’Baku when he finally rose from his bed. Save the bandage tightly wound around his midsection, he felt fine. At least physically. His heart, on the other hand, was crushed. When he’d been informed T’Challa had taken Y/N down the mountain, his fury unleashed on everyone around him. They’d scattered and left him to brood on the vista he’d previously admired. When he was able to reign in his emotions and tuck everything back behind his mask, he returned with the plan to approach getting his woman back with tactical precision.

 

At the moment, he was awaiting the arrival of the only advisor brave enough to brief him on what had transpired in the week he’d been in and out of consciousness.

 

The door clicking open caused M’Baku to turn on his heels. He’d been staring out into the recesses of the mountains, deep in thought about how to bring Y/N back into his arms and his life. Thus far he was drawing a blank.

 

“Explain to me what happened,” he questioned bluntly. He noted the fluster of the man in his direct line of sight.

 

“We felt it prudent to allow T’Challa to take her back to the Golden City pending her removal from Wakanda.”

 

The room spun. “Removal? For what reasons?”

 

“She killed A’Dyo, your highness.”

 

M’Baku listened as the story unfolded. She’d defended him, slayed the man trying slay him. His beautiful warrior. Her bravery had then been rewarded by being thrown into the same cell she’d escaped, treated as either an interloper or a murderer dependent on who was viewing her. He felt sick, physically ill, that he wasn’t able to protect her.

 

“Where is she now?”

 

“Under the purview of the Panther kingdom. She entered the nation on T’Challa’s request and on our advice, he will see to her return. She is scheduled to be sent back to the States tomorrow evening.”

 

“No,” he shouted as he exited the room, summoning his men. T’Challa owed him. He could stop this and give M’Baku time to convince her to stay. For what he was not sure. What was he offering her? A place in his bed, his kingdom, his heart? At the moment he was unsure. He’d figure it out when he stood before her.

 

“Your highness.” A courier interrupted his path to the stables. “This arrived for you.”

 

M’Baku,

 

When I came to Wakanda I knew I would be changed. I’d hoped to immerse myself in all this beautiful nation had to offer. I wanted to tell the stories that were important to the people who call this land home. I met at least some of my goal.

 

You, my regal giant, were unexpected. You saved me and for that I will be forever grateful. I’ll carry that memory and my scar back to my home. Both will serve to remind me of both the horror and the beauty that I encountered here.

 

When I remember you, I will remember how closely you held me, how you made me feel like I was the most precious thing in the world. Until I wasn’t and you turned your rage towards me. That colors everything as does the blood on my hands.

 

I am not a warrior, but now I am a killer. I’ve taken a life for a man who’d lock me away without a word of defense.

 

When I remember you, I won’t be angry. My thoughts of you will be bittersweet, clouded by what could have been.

 

Y/N

 

 

M’Baku felt raw, like all of the nerves in his body were exposed. He wanted to crush the neatly scripted card in his hands and pretend it didn’t exist. Instead, he tucked it securely beneath his chest armor next to his heart, sentimental as it may have been. With her words ringing in his head, he reversed course and made his way to his chambers, mumbling he didn’t wish to be disturbed.

 

If she wanted to go he’d let her. He was not the kind of man force a woman to stay. There were plenty of suitable women of his own ilk he could use to fill his time and his bed. He had to be honest with himself. All they’d shared was sex and trauma. That did not a relationship make.

 

The problem was that he really wasn’t being honest with himself. He’d bedded his fare share of women, but none of them had moved him in the way she had. His world had shifted on its axis to make room for her. Moving the world of a man so planted in tradition was not small feat. He may not be open to integrating the Jabari into the world at large, but he now saw how the world at large could fit into his. With that knowledge now perfectly clear, he set out to right his wrongs.

 

 

T’Challa met M’Baku at the massive doors to the throne room. After brief formality, M’Baku laid himself bare.

 

“I need to see her, please.” He knew his tone of voice was unbecoming of a Jabari warrior, but for the time being it was the least of his concern. He need T’Challa to know how important it was that he spoke what was on his heart before Y/N exited Wakanda.

 

M’Baku gave T’Challa a curt nod and tented his hands in thanks when the other man pointed towards a path looping towards a silvery lake.

 

***

 

The moon rode high in the sky and to your discomfort, thoughts of you and M’Baku’s night in the hot springs came to the forefront of your mind. You cleared your thoughts and listened to the water lap against the rocks. Moments passed with only the sound of rustling leaves and your breathing until the fall of heavy footsteps broke your concentration. There was someone approaching. Turning your eyes toward the moon, you sighed.

 

“Can’t I get any peace?” you inquired of the stars, frustrated that the tranquility of your haven was being disturbed by some heavy-footed stranger.

 

“I haven’t had any since I learned you were leaving.” The sound of M’Baku’s voice filled the darkness.

 

He actually sounds like he means it you smirked to yourself.

 

You rose to your feet without a word and started down the path towards the palace. You had not come there for a reunion with M’Baku, but maybe part of you had been counting on him storming towards the Golden City and dragging you into his arms. Heaven knew you had been thinking about him for hours.

 

Your long strides were no match for his as he caught your elbow halfway down the cobbled path. With just enough force, he turned you toward him and looked into your eyes. There was something about the depths of his almost black irises that had drawn you in the first time you’d met and continued to hold you ever since. With strong hands on your shoulders, he began to speak.

 

“Y/N, I know I will not have peace if I let you leave on these terms. I apologize and I know that they’re just words. I have to prove to you that I mean this. All I ask is that you give me a chance.” he said, placing a large hand against the smooth brown of your cheek, “You can’t imagine how I felt when I saw A’Dyo touching you, hurting you. It just about drove me mad. I’m not used to losing control, but with you I can’t help it. Losing control with you feels right and I want that opportunity again. Please, can you give me that?” M’Baku confessed.

 

You found yourself wanting to let your guard down and open your heart to M’Baku as you’d started to in the prior days, but why did you feel like you would be a fool to do so? Lowering your gaze from his heated stare took all the willpower you had. There was no turning back. It was over. No matter how bad it hurt or how much he wanted you, the damage had been done.

 

“I can’t. You keep asking me for a second chance, but you never gave me a first. I gave you my heart and you broke it without hesitation. What I’ve learned more than anything in Wakanda is to take care of myself.” You paused to wipe a few tears from your cheeks. “All I see is a man who wants to right some wrong and I can’t let you use me as your piece of mind. Now if you care for me as much as you say you do, then you will leave me alone and let me be. That’s all I ask of you,” you cried. 

 

Pulling yourself from M’Baku’s arms, you began your trek once more. A strong hand on your shoulder stopped your steps. Not a word was uttered as M’Baku pulled you back into his arms and bent his head toward yours. In your heart of hearts, you knew that one brush from his lips across yours would be your undoing.

 

“I’m not letting you get away that easily, Y/N,” he whispered a fraction of a second before his lips claimed yours.

 

Whatever hold you had on your emotions was lost when M’Baku suckled your bottom lip, savoring the taste of you. Kissing him went straight to your head. He was like some sort of drug. You wanted him so badly, yet you knew you were delving into world you needed to escape from. Yet your arms went instinctively around his neck, drawing him closer and giving him the permission he sought to deepen his assault on your senses.

 

Your heart beat erratically as M’Baku gently parted your lips and plunged further into the caress he had waited a lifetime for. He darted quickly in and out, teasing you into drawing yourself deeper into his arms and closer to his body. Why? Why was this everything you needed, yet everything you wanted to run from? Breathless moments passed before you regained the strength to pry yourself from M’Baku’s passionate grasp. One glance into his desire-glazed eyes had you wanting to open yourself completely to him with no regrets. That was not possible.

 

***

 

M’Baku’s body was still wound tightly as he looked down into the eyes of the woman he wanted to claim as his once more. He had been such a fool! Here she was responding to him in body and heart, but her mind was ruling the situation. M’Baku should have known that. Y/N was one of the most intelligent women he had ever known and he knew that her logical mind would not allow her heart to get into trouble she could avoid. Yet avoiding trouble meant avoiding him. M’Baku was not prepared to let that happen, but with all his training, he was no match for the determined woman before him.

 

Force of habit caused M’Baku to reach for her and crush her body to his once more. His head dipped again. Placing tiny, fiery kisses across Y/N’s lips, he was always a step ahead of her. Catching her off guard he pulled her close as he possibly could at the same time as he claimed her mouth once more. Just a few more seconds he thought, running his tongue across her bottom lip before tracing the outline of her full mouth. He could feel her defenses weakening. Cradling her face in his large palms, M’Baku probed, hoping to get closer, deeper into her heart and mind. If she could just remember how well they’d begun to mold to each other. How one touch could make her tremble. All she had to do was open up.

 

The feel of her heartbeat next to his wasn’t something that he realized he craved until that very moment. The mold that their bodies made was perfect. How many more nights could he envision with her curled against him? Those days she’d belonged to him, he awoke before her just to stare at her in the early morning light. Now he couldn’t say he had that privilege. His protective nature called strongly, but he was longing to protect her from himself.

 

Running a large hand down her back, M’Baku sighed heavily as he released her. He took a step back to take in Y/N. She was trembling, swollen lips slightly parted as she caught her breath through them. Her pupils were dilated and he knew he had almost gotten to her. In slow motion, her arms went around her waist and her head dropped. M’Baku felt as if his heart was being ripped from his chest. It was hell seeing her in pain, but it was even worst seeing her in pain he could have prevented. It was all because of him,

 

“Y/N?” he called softly. ‘Please let her look at me. Hanuman knows I didn’t want to cause her any more pain. How stupid have I been?’ he chastised himself.

 

At the gentle way he called her name, she raised her head, reeling back at seeing his reaction to seeing the tears streaming down her cheeks. Unconsciously, she wiped them away. She didn’t want to hurt him. Funny how she’s putting my emotions before hers he mused.

 

“M’Baku, I am asking you once more. Please let me be. I can’t take this! Part of me wants you so much, but the sensible part keeps reminding me of what you did and just how unimaginable this trip has been. I don’t want my world turned upside down again,” she choked out between sobs.

 

Wrapping her arms tighter around herself, she walked quickly towards the palace without looking back. Through the darkness, M’Baku shouted after her.

 

“I’m not giving up on us!” he promised to her retreating form.

 

M’Baku had no idea what he hoped to accomplish by yelling after her. Couldn’t he see that he was causing her more pain with his pursuit of her? Thinking better against following her again, he took the place Y/N had vacated on the rocks. Boulders of guilt, worry and regret settled on his shoulders and he wondered if they would ever lift. Running his hands across his face, he drew in deep breaths attempting to shake the feel of Y/N’s lips from his memory and to relieve himself of some of the guilt he felt for kissing her at all.

 

There would come a time when he would be able to touch her without feeling ashamed or fearing that she would run for the hills like she just had. Finding a balance of what he wanted and giving her the space that she needed would be a hard task, but for the sake of both of them, he had to find a way. A few restless moments later, M’Baku sulked down the stone path that had carried Y/N back towards the Golden City and away from him.


End file.
